


Fireflies

by MonkeysInPants



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alien Reproduction, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mech Preg, Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 08:18:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3403532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonkeysInPants/pseuds/MonkeysInPants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Breakdown finds himself irresistibly attracted to headlights.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fireflies

Cybertronian programming was complicated. It was made up of uncountable lines of code that dictated and influenced behaviours, functions, and ways of thinking. It had been revised, added to, deleted from, and recombined over a span of millions of years. It comprised of an almost endless series of programs, all interacting with each other; activating, deactivating, altering, masking, rearranging, multitasking. A bio-programmer could spend a lifetime trying to tease apart the mysteries of Cybertronian programming, attempting to map the cause and effect of each piece of code, and barely solve a fraction of it. The end result of all this chaotic digital evolution was the occasional stray program that no one remembered where it came from or why it was there to begin with, but couldn’t quite pinpoint and remove without the loss of other functions.

One of these stray ‘instinctual’ programs was why, every few stellar cycles, Breakdown found himself irresistibly attracted to car headlights.

It happened at perfectly regular intervals, but his odd cycle always seemed to slip his mind until the programming reared its head again. Given how much time he spent around Knock Out, it usually wasn't an issue. This time, however, he was in the middle of watching some of the car-based Vehicons drag racing on the _Nemesis._ One second he was relaxing and enjoying the race and the next a wave of desire was smashing through him like a wrecking ball to the face. Breakdown's mouth dropped open as he suddenly found himself painfully aware of just how many headlights there were flashing by him.

His cooling systems roared to life as his processors went into overdrive with the activation of multiple resource-intensive programs. One of the programs sent a tingling sensation shooting straight down his back and into his interface cables, making them squirm beneath their protective panels.

“Guh,” Breakdown managed to choke out as arousal flooded his massive frame.

Several of the spectating Vehicons standing next to him turned at the sound, their immobile faceplates unreadable. They shared glances and shrugs amongst themselves before one drone stepped forward slightly and asked, “Breakdown, sir? Is something wrong?”

“Uh, _nh_ ,” Breakdown replied as he straightened, his optics fixated on the bright headlights of the racing Vehicons. He didn’t have a lot of processing power to spare at the moment with one of the ancient programs greedily hogging system resources as it busied itself duplicating all of his cognitive programming. He shook his head in an attempt to regain his focus and tried answering again in his usual dry tone, only just managing to keep a tremor out of his voice. “I'm fine. Just thinking about what Knock Out would think of your racing.”

_Knock Out._ Just thinking about his partner made his frame thrum happily. Where was the doc right now, anyway...?

Thoughts of Knock Out were quickly wiped from his overtaxed mind as a set of particularly bright headlights swept over him. His fingers clenched tight as desire overwhelmed common sense, and his yellow optics fixated that one Vehicon that ancient programming had picked out as _best-brightest-want-need_.

Another surge of arousal lanced through Breakdown as he stalked toward his target, his chosen Vehicon screeching to a halt and transforming as the race came to an end. The Vehicon jolted in surprise to find Breakdown looming over him, staring down at him with intimidating intensity. Freezing, the Vehicon wondered what he’d done wrong, if he was going to meet the same fate as many drones did at the hands of higher ranked Decepticons, if maybe he should try running…

Then Breakdown cocked his heavy hips to one side and smirked down at the brightest Vehicon with half-lidded optics. “So, uh, you wanna go get some energon or something?”

Breakdown’s cooling systems were humming audibly, having reached a particular pitch that was intended to trigger a complementary set of ancient programming in his prospective partners, driving _them_ wild. A set of ancient programming that Vehicons just didn't have. Drone programming was stripped to the basics. It left them with a relatively limited capacity for learning, thinking, and developing individual personalities as the price for freeing them from most vestigial coding. Without any complementary programming to activate, Breakdown was left with only a very confused Vehicon.

“I already had my energon ration for this solar cycle, uh, sir,” the Vehicon said, trying to slowly back away from the imposing Decepticon.

Breakdown followed his retreating target, pressing further into the drone’s personal space. His every circuit was humming for the Vehicon. He wanted him, _needed_ him, wasn’t sure he could take no for an answer-

A blaze of high beams from behind threw the world into stark contrast and a smooth, familiar voice filled his audio-receptors. “Breakdown, just what do you think you’re doing?”

Breakdown turned, distracted by the new light, and had to squint against the brightness of Knock Out’s headlights, far outshining anything the drones had offered him. With Breakdown distracted, his targeted Vehicon made a quick escape, fading into the crowd of identical drones.

Knock Out stalked toward his partner, optics narrowed predatorily, while Breakdown’s own gaze fixated on his swaying headlights. The humming of Breakdown’s systems filled his head as he approached, sending curls of pleasure out across his sensory net as his own vestigial programming booted up. Instinctive possessiveness welled in his chest and he shot glares at the Vehicons gathering to either side, flashing his headlights pointedly. To anyone with the right programming it was a challenge and an assertion of his dominance over dimmer cars, proving that only he deserved Breakdown’s attention. To the Vehicons it was a baffling display and they watched, mystified, as Knock Out flashed them one last time before grabbing hold of an enamoured Breakdown and dragging him off.

The pair didn’t make it far. At the first out-of-the-way alcove they encountered, Knock Out shoved Breakdown roughly against the wall, pinning him to it with the weight of his own body. Vibrations from Breakdown’s cooling systems pulsed through him at every point of contact and Knock Out hummed with pleasure. His own cooling systems purred to life, shifting pitch until they synchronized with his partner’s and the sensations resonated deliciously between them.

“Naughty, naughty, Breakdown,” Knock Out said, trailing his hands up his partner’s thick thighs to grip his hips. Sharp fingertips dug into metal, drawing a shudder and a moan from Breakdown and leaving possessive gouges in his plating. Knock Out wouldn’t abide by such rough treatment of his own finish, but he absolutely loved leaving his mark on others. _Mine_. “Looking at _drones_ like that, when you know you belong to me.”

“Uh,” Breakdown gasped as Knock Out’s hands trailed up his sides, teasing seams and dipping between panels. It was so hard for him to think. The vibrations felt so good. Knock Out felt so good. All the necessary programs were primed and ready and his head felt like it was full of fire. A fire that only one thing, one person, could put out. He fumbled desperately at the panels covering Knock Out’s interface cables only to have his hands slapped away. He whimpered with need, his superior size and strength forgotten in the face of Knock Out’s dominance and ages-old programming. “I- I need you.”

Smirking, Knock Out pressed his lips to Breakdown’s chest. He loved it when his assistant was like this, however rarely it happened. Already so delightfully wanton with so little stimulation. And he loved what the heavy ‘Con woke within him, too – the dark, possessive burn that made him want to take and dominate with primitive abandon and destroy any obstacles that came between him and what was his.

“That’s right,” Knock Out said, voice dripping like fine oil, “You need _me_.”

He released his interface cables, the semi-prehensile cords uncoiling from beneath his shoulder plating to twist around his partner. One of them snaked its way up Breakdown’s arm to tease his lips and he took it in, obedient as ever, and sucked, drawing a long moan from Knock Out. The sound was like music to Breakdown’s audio receptors and as pleasurable as any caress.

At the insistent prodding of Knock Out’s fingers, Breakdown released his own cables and relinquished his hold on the connector in his mouth. The cables twined together, writhing, seeking, testing, and when each found its partner they slammed home. Output to input, input to output. System to system.

Firewalls dropped.

In unison, they cried out in pleasure and arched into each other, grasping and clutching and caressing though neither was quite sure where one of them ended and the other began. Edges blurred, sensations merged and swelled with sweet synergy, and for a moment their two minds became almost one in ecstasy.

In that brief moment of complete system-link, Breakdown’s primed programs burst into action. The duplicate of Breakdown’s cognitive code was cut and divided, sections deleted at random while homologous segments were found and copied from Knock Out’s code before both incomplete copies were spliced into a functional whole. The new programming was packaged and compressed then archived in Breakdown’s memory banks, a new and unique set of cognitive programming that once upon a time would have been transplanted into a blank protoform. Breakdown’s body would store the unique packet of code until his next cycle came around and then summarily deleted it to make room for the next one.

For all its complexity, the link only lasted a split second. Then firewalls were re-established and cables disconnected, the cords coiling back beneath their protective plating. Breakdown still tingled with Knock Out’s presence, inside and out, and he sagged limply to the floor. An equally shaky Knock Out draped over him, nuzzling his neck and stroking his helmet.

“Next time, you come straight to me, mm?” Knock Out said, groping Breakdown’s wheels. “I don’t want anyone else thinking about laying so much as a finger on these sweet rims.”

Breakdown snorted, but he was feeling far too content in the afterglow to try pushing his partner away. “You’re impossible.”

“You know you love it.”

“Hn.”

Slagging headlights.


End file.
